


Gold Rush

by the-canary (siruru)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Denial of Feelings, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Diners, F/M, Feelings Realization, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Post-Avengers (2012), Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-Relationship, Reader-Insert, Secret Crush, Strangers to Lovers, Time Skips, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 17:20:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15845844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siruru/pseuds/the-canary
Summary: Home isn’t home like it should be, but you could always make it into something new.





	Gold Rush

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve had this idea for awhile since listening to Gold Rush by Death Cab for Cutie. It’s changed along the way, but i still like it so i hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Feedback is always welcomed.

The first time Steve Rogers visits Brooklyn it’s a little heartbreaking, the passage of time creeps up on him as he sees the brick buildings that are as old as him house things --bakeries, cafes, record stores-- that don’t make sense in his mind. People are dressed differently and give him a wary eye as he walks past them -- the kid from Brooklyn doesn’t feel like he belongs there anymore. However, during one of his long walks, filled with reminiscing and regret, he sees a small dinner tucked in between a salon and a retro record shop -- as it had been lost to time as well. 

_ Bab’s Diner.  _

The name is glowing in bright neon light, a little bit beyond that Steve can see the red booth seats and large wooden tables that remind him of Saturday evenings and getting milkshakes with Bucky after he had gotten back from work. His enhanced hearing can pick up the distinct  [ Glenn Miller  ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rjq1aTLjrOE) song that used to be popular before the war effort started, as he sees an elderly man cleaning the counter and while, Steve isn’t exactly sure if this place was here when he lived in the neighborhood, it tugged at the strings of something he close to his heart. 

Maybe, that’s why he decides to enter, a waitress --wearing a red dress and white apron ensemble-- greets him with a bright smile. Her eyes flash with recognition and Steve is quick to catch it, but all she does is nod before she starts talking.

“Welcome to Bab’s Diner. A seat for one, maybe in the back?” she suggests, as Steve lets out a sigh of relief before nodding as he follows her. A familiar, but nostalgic feeling settling into him, as blue eyes look around staring at the old black and white pictures. His eyes settle on the counter as the old man gives him a nod before going back to work, as Steve turns his attention the menu in front of him. 

“So, what can I get you today, sir?” the waitress smiles, coming back from one of the other tables she is serving, with a pen and paper in hand. 

“A burger would be good,” Steve says, slight relaxing into the red booth.

* * *

 

“Ah, good evening, Steve,” you smile and greet the blond, as he nods before taking his regular seat near the back. Ever since he had come in one Saturday afternoon, Steve had decided to come in every evening (when mission allowed for it) when the crowd would wane, ordering either a burger or milkshake depending on his mood. It was you who usually took his order as the only waitress working during the night shift since the diner was so small and empty -- a begotten thing of a distant era, though people liked to claim they enjoyed the vintage aspect of it. 

“Burger or milkshake tonight?” you ask after walking to his usual booth. His smile is polite but a little tired as his shoulders sink down for a moment. Blue eyes scan the room for a moment before returning to you. 

“Milkshake,” is all he says, as you nod and a tap of your pen on the paper before you disappear into the back of of counter. Steve shakes his head, still running over the latest mission and all the mistakes that had been made, the calls that he could’ve given differently to save more lives. The music this time around not easing him like it had done so before. There were lives to save and Steve couldn’t help but feel the sting of defeat of not being able to help everyone, though the “bad guys” had been defeated in the end.

Steve stops his inner fretting when he hears your footsteps come closer, though they seem to be a little different as he turns up to look at what you are holding -- a milkshake and plate with a slice of pie.              

“A shake and a slice of cinnamon apple pie,” you exclaim happily, as Steve can’t help but return the smile you give him, though he is confused about the 2nd part of the order.

“I didn’t ask for pie,” he states, as you grin and place both items down on the table. 

“I know, but it looks like you need something sweet for that sour look on your face,” you explain, before glancing at the sound of the door opening, completely missing Steve’s look of utter admiration, “So, a dose of our famous pie should pick ya right up, on the house.”

“I--I,” he tries to stop you, but you just shake your finger at him before leaving him to enjoy the food, as he can’t help but smile softly and murmur to himself, “Thank you.” 

* * *

It’s three weeks of you not seeing Steve, though you try not to let it bother you -- he’s a superhero, Captain America though you are more used to using a polite man who tends to draw on napkins when he gets to bored. A man with a polite smile that prefers chocolate over strawberry in his milkshake when he has a good day and tends to fuse with the pickles in his burger, saving them for last and eating them quickly. And on a good day, you catch him mumbling to the old songs the jukebox played, but you weren’t paying that much attention. 

“Oh dear, I know that look,” Stan smiles as he shakes his head from behind the countertop, “So who’s the lucky guy?” 

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” you say leaning into the counter, taking a small break since there were little to no customers or they were already eating. 

“I’m guessing you’re missing a certain artist,” Stan continues, as he continues that habit of his of seeing Steve more as a grandson than the 90-year-old Captain America. Maybe, it was one of the reasons Steve enjoyed coming to his restaurant, aside from other things the older man had noticed when he was around. 

“You’re sure your glasses aren’t broken?” you give him a good natured laugh as he shakes his head at your diffusion of the situation, but he didn’t need to be a super soldier to notice how your heart speed up at the thought or that your voice took a nervous tilt at the end of your remark. Stan had a lifetime of experience and he knew puppy love when he saw, had gone through himself once. So, he could only shake his head, as you get up to tend to a customer.

“I just hope you don’t regret it, sweetheart,” Stan smiles, as you just shrug before heading back to work.

* * *

 

The thing that you don’t know is that Steve is having the same problem at the Avengers’ Tower, as a certain redhead is giving a teasing smile after a mission. There were no pending matters after the debrief and medical clearance, but she had come to see over the months since the Battle of New York that Steve tended to leave and head towards his old neighborhood. Natasha had let it go for awhile, until she had secretly found drawings here and there of a certain restaurant, and from she gathered Steve enjoyed going when a certain waitress was working. 

“So, where are you going?” she questions from the kitchen area, as she sees him walking out from the direction of the training room dressed in his usually brown jacket, buttoned up shirt, and khakis. She could only shake her head at it.

“Out,” is all he says with a friendly smile, still not used to the age and the people he is now working and living with at the newly formed Avengers. Steve, as best as he could, was still coming to terms with a lot of things he had missed and even with things that had stayed the same, but really weren’t anymore. He was still lost, and finding his way -- there wasn’t room for anything else, as much as he tried to deny certain things because of the regret that echoed in his chest. 

It was things that he tried to ignore when you smiled at him and gave him an extra slice of pie, when you laughed during his banter with Stan about something from long ago, when he saw you dancing more to  to Glenn and Ella than Sinatra. 

“Have a good time,” Nat smiles with wink, as Steve is just as confused as always when dealing with her, still not used to the double meanings and hidden messages that she hides from her time as a spy. Though for a moment, he thinks it might be connected to how he should stop wasting time, even though there is still so much to catch up on. 

However, Steve was always late on catching up with things.

* * *

 

And time flies away for the two of you like that, feelings are realized and they are hidden away safely in the pocket of denial in order to not destroy whatever friendship has been formed, as Steve gets used the 21st century and you move forward, taking over a bit more of the restaurant over time while working on your business degree. Then, it happens one evening -- Steve gets called to stay permanently near S.H.I.E.L.D HQ, in Washington D.C, and once more he has to uproot everything knows, though he doesn’t tell you for a long time, he waits until the last possible minute actually.    

“Wow,” Stan says, while pushing his glasses up. You only nod numbly, as you can’t really say anything else, Steve Rogers wasn’t yours to keep. Captain America was a national hero, not someone who fell in love with a waitress. So, to stop yourself from drowning you hand him another piece of pie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. 

“We’ll miss you, Steve,” you smile softly, as he nods while this time sitting next to the counter of the closed restaurant as you and Stan give him an impromptu going away party. He looks up to look at you with blue eyes that are bright and shining with something else.  

“I know,” is the only way he responds, as Stan shakes his head in the background, before taking another bite of his pie to ignore the way his heart is thumping to your smile.

Goodbyes are exchanged, and the two of you keep moving forward -- just on different axises.   

* * *

He comes back to New York eventually, but it’s not the same. Steve knows deep down that this time, this setting isn’t home, as much as he cares for and cherishes all the Avengers. The last line to his past, Bucky, is out there and he struggles to find his home once more. He doesn’t go back to Brooklyn anymore, to that little restaurant he knows still exists between a barbershop and a laundromat-- from what Nat had shown him. 

But, it isn’t home. Steve Rogers doesn’t have a home. 

At least, he thinks that to himself while ignoring the comfortable banter between friends, as he tries to forget the smell of apple pie and the distant sound of melodic laughter.

* * *

 

The years pass and you find yourself stopping to look at the television every once and awhile, just to see what Captain America is doing, if Steve is all right. There are many challenges along the way, for  both you and for him but you always hope everything will be alright one day -- that he’ll finally have a place where he can truly settle, as you fight to keep  _ Bab’s  _ alive after Stan gets too sick to keep taking care of it. It’s a fight with loans and keeping everything afloat while finally getting your Master’s degree, putting in the extra hours and marketing to bring people into the area, while it never giving up on its subtle charm. 

This place is all you have remaining of those months all those years ago, and once everything starts to settle down and you begin to turn to profit once more -- it happens. 

“I heard this place has the best pecan pie,” a familiar voice declares as the chime announces a new guest late one Wednesday evening, one of the less busy days for you. You were in back, though close enough to the back tables to hear a small commotion with Nattie, one of your newer waitresses. 

“Kinda of looks like Tom’s Dinner,” a deeper voice mentions, followed by another hum. You frown and wait for the young college student to come to the kitchen with the orders and when she does she’s a flustered mess as she tells the nighttime cook, Carlos, all their orders only for you to perk up near the end. 

“--milkshake and a burger with no pickles,” Nattie declares near the end, as you can’t help but shake your head in nostalgia, “Also, a cinnamon apple pie to go, which is weird since we don’t sell those.”

No, you didn’t -- hadn’t sold it for a long time since Stan was the one who made those, and you were the one who knew the recipe by heart, though it wasn’t often that you often made. This group of people would have had to had known that from a long time ago, you take a deep breath and trying to make sure you aren’t jumping to conclusions. You look at Nattie and shake your head. 

“I’ll make sure to tell them, don’t worry about it,” you state, as Nattie nods before stating she is taking her break. You smile at the young lady, because while she was a bit eccentric she had a good head on her shoulders. You wait for Carlos to finish their orders and proceed to head with all of them, most the diner is empty but if you’re right -- you know where they are sitting. 

“Hello,” you give them your most professional smile as two sets of blue and one pair of brown eyes look  at you, though one more closely than any of the others as you place their meals on the table,”Here is your food, though I am sorry but the cinnamon apple isn’t sold here anymore.”

“Oh! We’ll thanks for letting us know,” the man to your left reasons in a jovial tone, as the brown-haired man nods, the only one not saying anything is the bearded blond man that just seems to be looking at you. You give them one more polite smile before telling them to enjoy their meal and heading back to the countertop section this time. 

You can’t help the electricity that you felt at the sound of :  _ “Hey, hey. Is that her?”  _

* * *

 

By the time you close up, Nattie and Carlos have already left though you let the group of three men enjoy their time together until the one named Sam, or as you better know him “The Falcon”, declares that they should be heading back to the Tower unless they want to be on Nat’s bad side for her morning training. Both he and Bucky Barnes try their hardest to give you the payment for the meal, but you just laugh and tell them it's one the house since the cash register is already closed with 3 pies in order to make up for the one you didn’t have. 

“Come back anytime!” you declare as the two of them go outside, the 3rd member of their party lingering a bit, as you try to have those blue eyes captivate you all over again.

“Hey,” is all he manages to say as your grin subsides to a smile.

“Hey, yourself,” you repeat, while montioning to his beard, “Like the new look there.” 

“Thanks,” Steve laughs for a bit, before getting a bit more serious, “I just wanted to know where Stan was nowadays? Didn’t see him.” 

“Oh, he moved down to Florida to be closer to his  grandkids,” you explain with a more somber smile when thinking about the old man, though he always called you every weekend, “But, instead of closing down, I bought the place and have been running it ever since.” 

“That’s great,” he lets out a sigh of relief before taking a look around, “I would’ve hated to see this place go.” 

“Me too,” you can’t help but agree, as Steve looks outside to see that both Sam and Bucky had left without him, definitely pushing forward the plan that they had talked about before they had left -- to have Steve Rogers reconnect with the waitress he seemed to once be “crushing” on, come hell or high water. Without much to do now, you got your bag and keys ready to head home, as Steve stood there for a good moment before asking. 

“Ahh, do you need someone to walk ya home?” Steve asks as calmly as possible though his accent slips just a bit due to nerves, as you motion for him to follow you to the front, as you close up the doors and set the metal bars in front of them. You turn to look at him and then around to see that the other two superheroes are no longer around. You quirk a brow as he shrugs.

“What about your friends?” you ask, clearly confused. 

“It seems they went on without me,” Steve explains, as you laugh at the situation though thank the duo deep down for this little moment, even if it is just for the night. 

“Well, if you don’t mind,” you answering his original question and walking down the street with Steve at your side, sharing stories here and there of what you have been doing during your time apart. 

And underneath the street lights of good old Brooklyn, Steve finds a semblance of something familiar once more because a little ways down he has group of supportive and caring comrades within the Avengers, and at the sound of your familiar laughter with the promise of making him an apple pie whenever he has the time, alongside a kiss on the cheek -- Steve can’t help the warm, fluttering emotion that settles deep within his chest. 

  
A sense that he was finally in a place that he could call ‘ _ home _ ’. 


End file.
